


someone's got to look after you

by SmittyJaws



Series: 50 ways to say "I love you" [3]
Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Bonz shows up briefly, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmittyJaws/pseuds/SmittyJaws
Summary: Prompt from50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You”1. Holding their hands when they are shaking.
Relationships: John Paul Jones/Original Female Character(s)
Series: 50 ways to say "I love you" [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757476
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	someone's got to look after you

Jonesy feels like shit.

No, scratch that. He feels worse than shit. He’s not entirely certain how that’s possible, but has long since passed the point of caring about semantics.

At first, he’d thought it was just a bit of exhaustion, a mild fever from the change in climates. Nothing he couldn’t shake off. But then the fever rose and the nausea set in, and now he’s left curled up in a ball of misery in bed in his hotel room while Zeppelin plays a concert without him.

They’d all stopped by his room in turns (keeping a reasonable distance, of course) before the show to wish him well, declaring that no one could truly replace him in their band’s sound. Bonzo in particular had cheerfully declared he’d place money on the show being utter shit without him there, and while Jonesy hadn’t been able to muster up more than a weak chuckle at that at the time, he appreciates the thought anyway.

His only consolation is that Jay is here. She’d managed to get the time off from work to come join him on this tour, and Jonesy has never been more grateful; he doesn’t know what he’d do if he’d truly been left alone.

She’s stepped out for a bit, though; off to find him medicine or a hot water bottle or something else; he can’t recall, really. His memory’s been a bit fuzzy the past few days, and thoughts escape him like water from a sieve.

As if on cue, he hears the door opening, and though he can’t muster up the strength to turn over, he knows it’s her. “Got you some medicine,” she tells him, and he can hear a plastic bag rustling on her side of the bed. “You’ll need to sit up to take these, though.”

Jonesy groans quietly; _movement_? Hasn’t he been through enough torture already?

But he pushes himself up slowly on shaking arms, huffing out a breath from the exertion as he tries to get himself as upright as possible to take the medication before holding a hand out for the pills Jay’s holding. “Alright. Let’s get… this over with.”

“You gonna be alright?” Jay asks, and Jonesy lifts his head up further to see concern clearly written on her face. “Your hands are shaking.”

Oh. So they are. He forces himself to try and still them; he’ll end up making a mess of himself with the glass of water Jay’s holding out along with the pills, and spilling water all over himself and the bedsheets is another indignity that Jonesy doesn’t need to experience right now.

He manages to not spill any water on himself (thank God for that), but the bouts of vomiting have left his throat so aggravated that swallowing the pills sets off a terrible coughing fit, leaving him nearly bent double as he tries to catch his breath.

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezes, leaning onto Jay where she’s now sitting beside him on the bed (when had she moved?). “Hate this.”

“I know you do,” Jay murmurs, rubbing his back as Jonesy’s breath comes out in gasps. “No one likes being sick.”

“S’fucking… _shite_ … is what it is,” he mutters, still trying to calm his shallow breathing and racing heart back down.

“I know it’s shite.” Jay helps him lay back down before smoothing a hand over his forehead, and Jonesy just wants to melt; the cool touch of her hand on his hot and sweaty brow feeling like an oasis. But then she pulls back: “Let me just go get—”

“No,” he rasps quietly, shaking his head. “Stay?”

“I was just going to go to the loo and grab a facecloth with some cold water.” Jay indicates with a tilt of her head. “Nowhere far.”

“Stay anyway?” He’s sure it’s just the fever making him feel like this; not that he doesn’t like her company otherwise, or want to have her around, but right now he can’t shake the slight anxiety of having her leave his side.

“A cold cloth would probably do you wonders, though.” She’s giving him a Look now.

“ _You’d_ … do me wonders.” He manages to give her a crooked grin in response, and even though he knows that’s a terrible attempt at flirting (not that he’s ever particularly suave with those kinds of pickup lines in general), it apparently works. Jay just gives him a fondly exasperated look, pushing aside her bag of things she’s bought before lying down beside him on top of the covers.

“That better, then?”

“Much.” He shuffles himself closer; he’s now feeling a bout of chills, and Jay is warm. “Glad you’re here,” he mumbles, nearly inaudible from where he’s practically cocooned in his blankets, save for the one still-shaking hand he reaches out to her, needing that contact.

“I’m just glad I can help.” Jay takes his hand in hers, gently rubbing her thumb over his knuckles, and Jonesy hums contentedly at the feeling.

“Love you,” he murmurs. “If we weren’t already married, I’d marry you again.”

“God, you get flirty when you’re ill,” Jay teases, but Jonesy knows she likes it by the gentle squeeze she gives his hand. A dip of the bed is his only warning before he feels her lean over and kiss his temple. “I’d marry you again too.”

Jonesy might feel like shit, but he drifts off to sleep with the memory of those words, and his dreams that night are pleasant.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also @smittyjaws on Tumblr!


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